


Into The Woods

by DanteCain



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, M/M, Modern AU, POV First Person, Somewhat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanteCain/pseuds/DanteCain
Summary: In the summer of 1997, the Hinterlands National Park needed dedicated volunteers.Instead, they got Sylvan Lavellan.Now he's here for three months, with only two other mysterious park rangers on the other end of his radio to keep him from losing his mind, along with the various people he encounters out in the woods.But things can get strange when you're essentially by yourself in a forest, especially when you're miles from civilisation and/or a decent mall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic, a little inspired by Firewatch  
> It's a weird premise, I know, but I hope people enjoy reading it anyway.

June 29th 1997

_The Hinterlands National Park is a vast sprawl of flora and fauna covering almost 500 acres of land. It's home to several species of wildlife that can only be found within it, including lesser brown fennecs and the critically endangered tawny nug. There are several hiking trails for both experienced hikers and beginners, with several picturesque spots to stop and rest. We kindly ask that any and all who visit The Hinterlands National Park treat it with respect and do not litter, disturb wildlife or start unguarded fires. Remember kids, Woodsly Embers says 'Forest fires hurt Mother Nature!'_

_As a park ranger, your first duty is to locate your assigned watchtower. This is where you will live whilst at the park. All watchtowers are marked on your provided map. In the event you cannot use your map, there are signs placed at the entrance of the park to assist you._

 

 ***

 

The sun is low in the sky, casting orange shadows over the beaten forest trail. Twigs and pebbles crunch underneath my heavy hiking boots as I follow it, while birds and squirrels trill loudly from the redwoods up above. It’s the kind of peaceful woodsy scene they show in all the promotional videos they force you to watch in school. I almost expect an eagle to shriek overhead and Woodsly Embers himself to descend from the sky to lecture me on the dangers of lighting a cigarette in front of a tree. It’s a hell of a long trail, though. The pamphlet said that Raven’s Rook watchtower is a fifteen minute walk away from the cable car station, but I’m calling bullshit on that. I’ve definitely been walking for at least…

Oh.

Oh, my watch says it’s only been ten minutes.

Still, I’m starting to wish that they’d let me drive one of the cool little buggies they had at the main ranger station. I’ve wanted to drive one of those ever since we came camping here when I was twelve. What kid doesn’t? What ADULT doesn’t? Especially after a day of hiking followed by a fifteen minute cable car ride and then a ten- make that fifteen now- minute walk? Hey, fifteen minutes!

If the pamphlet was right, that means my home for the next three months should be nearby.

Shit, three months.

I really agreed to do three months, didn’t I?

Something scurries across my path, brown and furry. I think it might be a common brown nug. They’re supposed to be really common here. So are bears, actually, but I think it was too small to be a bear. Maybe a bear cub, but not a bear. I wonder if I’ll see any actual honest-to-maker bears while I’m here? I mean, obviously I’ll see some from the tower, but up close and personal? It kinda makes me shudder. Why didn’t I think about bears and/or bear attacks before agreeing to hole myself out here for the summer?

Oh right. Because I’m an idiot.

 ***

The tower, it turns out, is more of a twenty minute walk from the cable car station. I find it after scaling a small rock formation and following my compass west. It’s pretty hard to miss, really. The cab is pretty small, about the size of my old college dorm and 90% window, sitting atop an old wooden structure that looks about twenty feet tall. The inside is rustic, a basic bed draped with a classic Dalish blanket and a wooden desk facing the sunset. There’s two lamps, one electric, and a beat up old TV that doesn’t turn on when I try it. At least I’ve got my Walkman, I guess. The only other thing of note is a little portable radio sitting on my pillow. It’s weathered and looks pretty heavy duty. I guess that’s the communication device they mentioned in the pamphlet.

And here I thought I’d finally get my hands on a nice pager.

The best part of the entire lookout tower is the view. I can see miles and miles of lush green trees, surrounded by rocky mountains with a glittering lake as the centrepiece. This is what they should show in the promo videos. Not Woodsly Embers and his cartoon axe good-naturedly threatening you if you so much as think about anything fire related within a thirteen mile radius of a forest. Not that I’m complaining about Woodsly. I’ve always had a thing for lumberjacks. Especially lumberjacks who love nature.

I wonder if there are any hot lumberjacks wandering around the trails.

I can see it now. I’ll be cornered by a bear, in my best tank top and shorts, screaming for help. Suddenly, a pair of muscular arms’ll wrap around my waist and hoist me up into the tree. I’ll glance up at my bearded hero, marvelling at the way his flannel shirt is open to the waist, and ask however I can repay him for saving my life. He’ll grin a rugged grin, lean close to my ear and say

“Hey! Raven’s Roost, you’re here!” I almost piss myself.

The radio on my pillow’s little red light is aglow, and it buzzes with feedback as the voice on the other end of it speaks.

“I can see your light’s on. You gonna pick up?”

I do, holding it nervously to my mouth. Do you ever wonder if people can hear what you were just thinking? Because right now, I sure as shit do.

“Uh, hey…” I say, “Raven’s Roost here.”

“Hey!” The voice says again, “You’ve joined the land of the living, finally.”

“Yeah sorry, I was… uh…” Fantasising about forest safety mascot Woodsly Embers, “…Thinking. It’s been a long trip.”

“You’ll get used to it.” The voice chuckles, “Twin Rivers, by the way. My tower’s north of yours.”

I glance out of my north-facing window and surely enough, there’s another tower across the expanse of trees. If I squint, I can just about make out a figure standing in one of the windows.

“That’s a two day hike.” He goes on, “Usually have to set up camp halfway there.”

“How…” It’s surely just a straightforward walk through the forest? “How is it two days?”

“There’s a river… and a canyon. Most of the trails go through caves, too. It’s pretty intense.”

He’s quiet for a little while, and I guess he’s done talking. I start to strip off my gross sweaty outdoor clothes. The cool evening air is so nice after the blazing hell that was the hike up here. I know I packed pyjamas, but honestly it’s starting to seem way more practical to just flop down on my bed and sleep buck naked. Who’s even gonna know? It’s not like my apartment where every window faces another person’s. It’s nature. I’m going au naturel. The squirrels might even thank me for being so in touch with their way of life. It’s also probably physically impossible for squirrels to be perverts, so yeah. Sleeping naked it is. I’m just about to settle down when my radio buzzes to life again.

“So, what’s wrong with you?”

Fucking hell they need to have a warning on that thing.

“What do you mean?” I flop down on my bed and hold it to my head like a phone.

“Everyone who comes out here comes out here because they have baggage.” He says, “What’s yours?”

I hold my breath.

“You sound young, so maybe… Parents? Oh, or you had a fight with your girlfriend.”

I stare at the ceiling.

“Or boyfriend, if that’s how you swing.”

“I’m on the run from the cops for tracking down lonely park rangers and murdering them.”

There’s a small moment of silence, then he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, we’re going to get on well.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of late 90s research I have to do for this thing is crazy.  
> Did I mention this was a pretty slow and chill fic?  
> It's also pretty dialogue heavy, but that's just how we do

June 30th 1997

I don’t really remember if I talked more after that. I don’t even remember putting my head down, but here I am splayed out on my new bed with a little puddle of drool on my pillow. When I finally muster the energy to move and grab it, my watch says it’s eight am. That means I got at least… twelve hours of sleep. Pretty decent for someone who used to go to bed at five am for seven am classes.

I get up and stretch, which feels awesome for once. It’s disgustingly warm again and I genuinely wonder if it’s an option to just spend the next three months sans clothes. I guess not, though. People come and go on the trails and I doubt they’d be happy if a deranged naked man was prancing around looking for dangerous fires. At least I can stay naked in my tower. The thought is actually kind of thrilling. I’ll be doing my job completely nude and nobody needs to know but me. It’ll be three months of pure bliss.

“Well, good morning Raven’s Roost…” My radio crackles to life.

“Morning.” I snatch it up and recline in my chair, grinning at how the wood feels against my bare ass buttcheeks.

“That’s uh… quite a show you’re giving me.”

Shit, what.

“You can see me?!” I dive for cover under my desk.

He’s wheezing with laughter, the asshole.

“Of course I can see you!” He chortles, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“YOU CAN SEE ME?!”

“Look, I can only really make out that you’re uh…” He snorts, “in the buff. I can’t see your specifics, unfortunately.”

“Could you both be quiet? Please? It’s far too early.”

The voice that cuts in is posh, but also heavy with sleep and slightly croaky. It’s just like my roommate used to sound when she was hangover, only a little bit sexier.

Oh shit wait I didn’t mean that.

It’s not sexy, it’s just plummy and a little bit rough and I think I did actually mean sexy.

“Redpine Grove!” Twin Rivers exclaims, “Nice of you to join us.”

“Wait just a Madonna-loving second.” I cut in, reaching up to try and find something anything to cover up what’s left of my dignity, “Redpine Grove?!”

“Yes. I assume you’re the ‘fresh meat’,” Shit I can actually hear the air quotes, “I’ve been told about. Welcome to the picturesque prison we call home.”

“Calm down.” Twin Rivers says, “He’s overdramatic. You get used to it.”

“Yeah, great, fantastic, nice to meet you. Can you also see the entirety of my naked ass?”

“No.” I let out a sigh of relief, “Hold on, let me get my binoculars.”

“Uh, no. Please.” Aha! I feel the slightly damp flannel of my shirt and yank it down under my makeshift shame shelter, “Could you both just, like, forget this happened? Kinda don’t want to be remembered as the naked forest guy.”

“As you wish.” Redpine Grove says, before his line emits a weird and super loud crackling-smashing noise.

“The fuck?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Twin Rivers laughs, “He threw his radio out the window. Does it every morning.”

“Well that’s normal.” I fumble with my buttons, yanking the hem down as far as it’ll go, “Not.”

And then there’s silence again. Wonderful, worrying silence. The kind of silence you get when you take your best friend to see Basic Instinct and Sharon Stone crosses her legs and you turn around and his hand is down his pants and you want to tell him that’s grody but there’s a whole load of people around you and if you say something it’ll just make things worse and

“Are you jacking off?!”

Okay, that was definitely supposed to stay inside my head.

There’s an even longer silence.

“What?”

Oh fuck he probably thinks I’m actually completely nuts now.

The crazy naked forest guy who asks random guys if they're wanking.

“Are you jacking off… Annie. Annie are you jacking off, are you jacking off Annie…” I sing, with all the gusto of a five year old in a mandatory school play, “Sorry, it’s… it’s Weird Al’s new one. Really catchy.”

Maybe I should throw my radio out of the window, too.

Maybe I should throw myself out of the window.

“Must’ve missed that one.” He says, “Hey, hurry up and head down to the river. I’ve got a job for you.”

I hope it’s not the kind of job I think it is.

Or do I?

No, I don’t.

Fucking maker, yes I do, it’s been a year since I got any action.

I really hope I didn’t say that out loud.

***

Okay, so it isn’t the kind of job I thought it was going to be.

The river is the clearest river I’ve ever seen. It’s not the weird murky green colour the river in Val Royeaux is. It’s like… evian clear. I think about kicking my boots off and going for a water walk, but the thought of squelchy socks makes me want to gag. Also some of the fish look kind of vicious.

I’ve seen Jaws. I know their deal.

“So, I’m at the lake…” I fidget with my radio, “What’s my job?”

It takes a little while for it to come to life, but even when I know it’s going to I still nearly shit my pants.

“You see the big blue rock?”

“The one with the nug on it?”

“…That’s not a nug.”

I look at the little etching of the fluffy brown rat… thing again.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Do you actually know what a nug is?”

“Yeah.” I glance at the rock, “It’s that.”

“Raven’s Roost… that’s a beaver.”

Oh.

Oh my creators.

“Have you ever actually been outside before, Raven’s Roost?” The dickhole is laughing at me.

“Yes! I just… We have different wildlife in Orlais.”

“I’m sure.” He snorts.

He’s quiet again for a little while, and I take my time looking around at the vast canopy of leaves above my head. It’s pretty different from how the Emerald Graves looked when I used to go camping there. The air is crisper and smells like one of those fancy scented candles people pay heaps for, and the trees are sort of… tree-ier. Like they’re bigger and thicker and look like the sort you see in nature documentaries. Kinda phallic, actually.

“Okay, seriously, why am I out here?” I ask.

My radio stays silent. I’m starting to wonder if he’s fucking with me.

“So, what, I’m just supposed to walk around until I figure out what it is you wanted me to do?”

Still nothing.

“Guess I’ll just walk right into this dangerous looking cave that’s definitely filled with spiders.”

Nada.

I pocket my radio, figuring the thing is so damn loud that I’d hear it through a nuclear apocalypse much less my shorts, and wander up to big ol’ Beaver-Nug Rock.

It sure is a rock.

There’s a little beaten trail just beside it, forking away from the water and leading up into the trees. It’s a fairly big path, with no super uneven ground or weird terrain from what I can see. If Twin Rivers isn’t in the mood to get back to me, I may as well follow and see where it goes.

Maybe to a secret sex cabin.

Maybe to death.

Who knows?


End file.
